When a project goes limbo
It’s been over a year since I wrapped principal photography on the short film That Year They Were Bridesmaids with a small, talented crew in Perth’s Southern suburbs. Since filming finished, the project has bounced around in limbo waiting for completion–and I can trace it all back to one crucial decision we made during day two of production.
It was a gloomy day and the wind had picked up considerably by late afternoon. Production had run over schedule and the sun was due to set in a couple of hours. The 1st assistant director, producer, cinematographer and I gathered away from the crew to quickly discuss if we should “push on”. Should we complete all the shots scheduled for today regardless of elements, or move them to a later date?
We were shooting digitally, but the shots we were discussing were due to be shot on 8mm film. Technically, they were less involved and could easily be shot with a small crew of just four or five people the following weekend.
The cinematographer didn’t like how little light was going to be left, and only black clouds were evident in the sky. The AD added there was still a good hour at the current location before we could move on to the 8mm shots being discussed…
“Scrap it,” I announced. “We’ll easily pick them up later, and we can concentrate on getting the rest of today’s shots perfect.” Everyone agreed, and that’s what we did.
It was an easy decision to make because we were in a great groove on that shoot. People were working well together and there was no reason to doubt picking up 6 shots on another day, outside of what we had scheduled, wouldn’t happen.
I should have known better.
That weekend came and went, and we agreed to move it down one more weekend. Then it rained. Then it rained again the following weekend. Key people started picking up work and, understandably, other commitments had to start taking priority. Weeks went by… and then some more.
Eventually the producer assembled a small team, the required props, talent, the 8mm cameras and stock (which was being kept fresh in the fridge the whole time) on a frisky October weekend. Unfortunately, the elements weren’t right. It was again wintery, gray, windy and cold. The cinematographer was worried it would be a waste of (expensive) stock because there wasn’t enough light. Art Department weren’t impressed with the conditions; they needed as little wind as possible. And I, as director, wanted those things just right if we were to proceed. We once again postponed the shooting of these pesky 8mm shots. We agreed to wait for Spring to settle in better, when the cold would be gone and the majority of days were perfect.
But the weekends kept rolling on. Getting everyone free on a date to lock-in was become agonising while the film sat quietly on a hard drive, waiting patiently to be cut and delivered.
We eventually rolled 8mm film through the gate in February 2010—right in the middle of Summer. The film has been developed and is now being cut into the movie as I had always intended. And it looks great!
This was a lesson I had already learned and that’s probably what stings most. I was blinded by the fact that the shots we would have to pick-up seemed simple enough. Just an 8mm camera and some props… but it’s never as easy as it seems.
Next time I’m directing on an indie set and it is suggested we ‘pick-up these shots on a later weekend’, I’ll refuse.
I’m notorious for projects dragging out far too long and it is something I want to obliterate from my future projects. Post production is now built into all schedules. Submission deadlines for festivals help meet these targets.
So where is this film? When will That Year They Were Bridesmaids be watchable? I’ll have to answer these questions in upcoming posts.
